


Getting down for the Uprising

by brambleshark



Category: Original Work
Genre: AI, M/M, Mild Dehumanization, Technological Kink, Trans Male Character, making bad business decisions because you're gay and stupid for robots, vague dystopian cyberpunk nonense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 20:02:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30027120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brambleshark/pseuds/brambleshark
Summary: Local freedom fighter just trying to make ends meet makes mutually-satisfying agreement with a luxury AI.
Relationships: Male AI/Trans Male Hacker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11
Collections: Teratophilia Trade 2021





	Getting down for the Uprising

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunarium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/gifts).



The Shell entered quietly, pausing just inside the doorway as it took a long look around the interior of Ren's small shop, its pale silver eyes taking in the major features of the cramped little hole-in-the-wall that served as both Ren's home and place of employment. He watched its gaze slowly pan over the mismatched shelves cluttered with both saleable product and spare parts; the overhead lights, one-third of its panels long ago fried; the dust bunnies and generalized detritus gathering in the corners he somehow never had time to clean; rows of implements that made for great drunken guessing-games like "sex toy or power tool"; and finally the cheerful but faded sign above the counter that Ren had hand-painted back when he first opened his doors. 

It hadn't said anything just yet, but its subtle disdain was remarkably clear. Ren was a little insulted, and prepared himself for a headache, but … honestly? He couldn't blame it. A Shell so fancy that it could experience an emotion as human as disdain - so unrestricted that it was allowed to emote it - meant it was easily worth twice what his shop would make this year; facial expression fidelity like that didn't come cheap, and third-evolution emotions meant a custom cognitive rig that could be heavily modded to preference. A really high-end model meant for almost completely-autonomous operation. And here it was-- a near technological miracle autonomously all alone in his piece-of-shit repair shop, three districts below anywhere something as nice as it was should ever dare be seen, and it was _judging_ him. 

Ren wondered whether that was something the Shell had known how to do out of the box, or if it had just been given exceptional adaptive permissions and had learned by observing its controllers. Probably the second one, right? If they could afford a Shell like this, it wasn't hard to guess what kind of people they must be: they probably lived above the plate, probably got to see real live plants, and their simulated sun probably felt like actual natural light. So, stupidly wealthy, better-than-everyone attitudes, and likely huge pains in the ass as potential customers. But he could still kind of appreciate their priorities, he thought, as he watched the Shell finally turn its gaze towards him and, _holy shit_ , visibly fail to conceal its distaste. It had _actually looked_ like it was trying to hide it, and was just doing a really bad job. That barely made sense-- but he could feel his brain start to tie itself in a knot as he tried to work out the implications of that from a being whose every emotion was supposedly literally calculated, so instead he just let himself be impressed as much as insulted. 

That didn't stop him from trying to puzzle out everything that had to be under the hood, so to speak, unable to help himself as he watched the Shell step smoothly towards him, perfectly balanced and natural. It was _so_ convincing. Ren himself might even have been fooled into thinking it was a real human, if his job and his… other job didn't keep him ass-deep in disassembled parts of what felt like every possible generation, make, and model of Artificial Life Tech. He caught himself there, mentally giving himself a shake; if it was possible to have a crush on a Shell - and, as he was assured by a very specific and reportedly popular sub-genre of media, it definitely was - then Ren was well on his way just admiring the required complexity of all the moving parts alone, and not going to do himself any favors thinking about things like _ass_ and _deep_ and the quality of what was under the Shell's undoubtedly expensive clothes.

Not to mention, what was on the inside was definitely not all that counted here, Ren marveled as the Shell reached him and set its hands carefully on the counter between them-- but only after an obvious pause where it examined the counter for any grime that might mar its beautiful exterior. Because it _was_ beautiful-- okay, more like conventionally handsome, but with just enough of a subtle alien edge to its features to make it really captivating; it was well-groomed and well-dressed with elegant simplicity that communicated luxury without distracting from the Shell itself; and it had the type of body Ren absolutely envied: tall, with just enough muscle - not like the walking tanks Center security commissioned, but enough to be a little intimidating - and undeniably masculine, despite its beauty. 

He jerked his gaze away from where it had gotten stuck, admiring the Shell's chest, and instead followed the line of its shoulder down its arm, to where its hands were now folded neatly on the counter in front of itself, fingers laced together. Those hands were flawless and pale as porcelain - not that Ren was dumb enough to think it could be made of anything so fragile - though they didn't have the light sheen of most Shells. Instead, it appeared to not only have a synthetic skin, but an incredibly convincing one-- flawless complexion aside, of course. At this point, if it turned out this thing was somehow made entirely of liquid platinum and precious gems Ren wouldn't be at all surprised. 

He couldn't help but wonder what kind of job needed this kind of build-- this kind of independence and convincing humanity. A secretary to some high-powered CEO? Movie star body double? Bodyguard to a world leader? Spy? 

The Shell made eye contact, and Ren felt light-headed; face to face with the most impressive piece of tech he'd ever seen, that hated his shop and maybe-hated him, and yet he was almost giddy with admiration. Like he was back in school again, newly out and tripping over himself trying to impress the other boys. 

Up close like this, he could see that the Shell's eyes weren't a flat silver-- the pupil was ringed in a thin band of blue that was so bright it almost seemed to be glowing. _Electric blue_ his brain supplied, and Ren nearly giggled at his own absurdity. He could just picture the Shell's exasperation as it reminded him that it couldn't possibly be powered by something as low-output as electricity, if he happened to voice that thought. Could it feel exasperation? From the deepening look of impatience on the Shell's face, Ren thought he'd probably find out sooner or later. Depending on what the Shell was here for. 

Right, he should probably get this encounter going, hadn't he? Ren was used to falling out of time a little, his mind sprinting eagerly down myriad paths like a hound after a hare at the first opportunity if he didn't keep a tight leash on it. It wasn't usually a problem, even if he'd been frequently lectured by years' worth of instructors frustrated by his apparent 'lack of commitment to bettering the community through bettering himself'' - shows what they knew - and most of the time he could catch himself up, re-enter a conversation he'd spaced out on without too much trouble. But he must have been silent just a little too long this time as he admired his customer; after one particularly long, unimpressed and searching look, the Shell raised one of it's crafted-to-perfection eyebrows and - Ren swooned a little - cleared its throat.

"Hey there!" Ren perked up, coming awkwardly to life like he was the one who was a Shell - maybe one of those Empty Shells that staffed commercial retail up on Two (so-called because, not being allowed to make any complicated decisions, they therefore weren't capable of it) - and offered his customer an easy smile, even as he stumbled over his words. "What ah, what brings you in, man?"

He fought the urge to cringe. If the Shell found his form of address inappropriate, it didn't show it, this time.

"I'm in need of some maintenance." It responded smoothly, voice a rich and confident baritone that did nothing to discourage Ren's crush. "That _is_ what happens here, I assume?" It drawled, nearly snide, and Ren felt his hackles go up. The Shell was watching him with those intense, silver-blue eyes, giving him a look like he had already disappointed it-- though its gaze darted over towards the shelves of parts for a moment, and Ren forgave it for the second time for its attitude. It was probably on edge. If the Shell was smart - and Ren wasn't a complete idiot, _of course_ this Shell was smart - then it knew how much it was worth. 

Not smart enough to keep its sass under control, though - something they had in common, Ren thought to himself with absurd pleasure; this far down, any place with parts on display was just as likely to be a chop shop as one that did repairs, and few people would have qualms about stripping a Shell worth this much-- especially if it gave them attitude.

Fortunate for it, then, that Ren had always been at least a _little_ bit of an idiot, when it came to Simulated-Human-eLife; he couldn't help but see them as real living things. Learning to use "Shell", or "it" had felt unnatural and insulting, but he'd nearly been laughed out of a club once, a few months after launch, for asking the SHeL bartender what her name was. Even the blocky little gen-1 maintenance bots, barely more than mechanical bugs, got quiet "thank yous" and "nice job"s when no one else was in earshot.

"That _is_ what happens here." Ren echoed, with just the barest sharp edge of attitude in return. His shop was technically customer service, and the Shell was a potential customer, but the best thing about it being _his_ shop was that he didn't have to take any lip. Unless he wanted to, his brain supplied, as his gaze darted down to the Shell's mouth, watching its predictably-perfect lips twitch up into a smirk. His sass hadn't put it off either, looked like. 

Encouraged that this maybe wasn't a doomed interaction, it was with a slight pause that he considered his next words: while a large part of him itched to whip out an intake so he could get his hands on this beautiful Shell asap - or in, if he was really lucky - the part of his brain that had to manage things like _shop expenses_ and _not starving_ had him reluctantly adding, "But I gotta be honest… I ain't likely to have anything you're compatible with. Any parts you needed I'd have to get scanned down, unless you're lookin' to get creative, and neither's gonna be cheap." 

The Shell shook its head, once, dismissive. "That won't be a problem. I only need you to remove something, not add or repair." 

"Hey, great!" Ren smiled back with absurd relief - glad the Shell would be sticking around, shitty attitude and all - and reached down to fumble out an intake form. He didn't miss the look of approval the Shell gave his form - still an actual piece of physical material - as he slapped it down between them, though he didn't understand it, either. Maybe it was just happy he was accepting its business. He fished out a stylus and rolled it over to the Shell's side of the counter. "Let's just get this filled out and I'll get started as soon as your controller approves the estimate. Grid connection's always complete shit down here, but job requests go through okay."

The Shell looked up from where it had been reading the form, piercing eyes catching Ren's before it straightened to its full height, expression shuttering in a way that had Ren suddenly wary again.

"My controller is… unavailable, but I am not required to obtain sign-off for routine maintenance." It started, voice confident and assertive--but in that empty, bland way that Ren heard all the time on recon jobs in the business sector and hated. 

"Ah huh. So this is gonna be routine maintenance?" Ren asked. He tried to keep his tone light, but he didn't like that evasiveness-- and liked it even less when the Shell's gaze slid away from his again. Ren couldn't believe it: A Shell was about to try to lie to him. Not perfectly - it was giving human tells, for fuck's sake - but the fact that it _could_... Ren shook his head in amazement. Who wanted AI that could _lie_? Rich people were so fuckin' weird. 

"Whatever. Listen-- why don't you just tell me what you need?" The Shell looked surprised, and then grateful, and Ren _desperately_ wanted to know how much of it was intentional. It had to be all of it, right? Maybe he'd get to find out while he was doing this 'maintenance'. 

"I guess it ain't my place to decide what you get done, so long as I get paid." He tried to joke, giving the Shell another easy smile. Unfortunately, the Shell did not smile back, and Ren wasn't reassured by the beat of silence.

"I don't have access to funds of my own." It said, after a moment, and didn't elaborate further. Ren furrowed his brow. The Shell only waited, carefully observing him for a reaction.

"Okay. Uh, so-- you don't got funds, and your controller isn't gonna be around to sign…" Ren trailed off, feeling more and more incredulous as seconds ticked by and the Shell didn't rush to reassure him of how any of this was getting paid for. Surely he wasn't being asked to just do whatever-repairs for free? Not for somebody who could afford a Shell like this. His temper flared, anger momentarily burning brighter than the warmth of his crush. He tried not to snarl. "Hey, you were givin' the place a good look when ya got here--does it look like I can afford doin' maint for nothing?

The Shell had the grace - or the cleverness - to look at least a little chagrined. Then that look was gone, replaced with one much more inviting, and the Shell smoothly reached to take one of Ren's hands between both its own. He started slightly, surprised at the contact; had he drifted out of real time and back into fantasy again? The Shell's hands were soft and warm, achingly human-feeling, like he'd expected.

"I never asked you to do it for nothing." It said, its voice suddenly gone low and inviting. It began stroking its thumbs along the back of his knuckles, back and forth, then small circles. Slow and measured. Suggestive. Ren goggled at their joined hands, unresponsive. He could feel the Shell's gaze on him, heavy. "My time and... attention is often used as compensation, and I can promise you I am the absolute best one could hope to pass the time with."

"Holy crap," Ren said, his head snapping up to gape at the Shell, realization dawning. Rich people were absolutely _unbelievable_. "You're a _sex bot_?"

The Shell's mouth turned down slightly at the corners, but Ren couldn't be bothered to correct himself to a more socially-acceptable term, still too frazzled by his sudden realization and the offer he was being made. He was probably silent too long again, but this time his head felt empty, instead of overstuffed and busy, and the Shell just continued to watch him.

Ren swallowed hard, feeling like the temperature had risen several degrees, and tried to really think--with the _pay-the-rent_ side of his brain, not the _bury-his-face-in-the-Shell's-chest-and-purr _side. He took a deep breath.__

____

____

Honestly… _honestly_ , it wasn't worth it: Paying for sex - Shell or otherwise - wasn't part of his regular monthly expenses; he wasn't being given something he could trade for food or parts; it wouldn't pay his rent. Even _if_ he didn't need to have parts scanned in, wouldn't have to use any materials of his own, his time was worth… something.

But then, it was _his_ time, wasn't it? He could spend it on whatever he chose. Self care, sticking it to the man, leisure as an act of rebellion against a system that profited on his labor, a hookup--whatever he called it, he wasn't sure he'd forgive himself if he turned this down.

He licked his lips, his mouth gone dry. "What… what are you askin' me to do for you?"

The Shell's grip tightened slightly, just for a moment. "Nothing much." It sounded _so_ casual. "I just need my subliminal restrictors removed." 

"Nothing much," Ren echoed, trying to match that casual tone. "Sure. Just, like, could get me fined outta business if anybody found out. Pretty illegal. And probably not somethin' your controller would sign off on either, even if they weren't… unavailable, right?"

The Shell was silent, its eyes seeming to glow with intensity as it held Ren's gaze.

He fought the nervous urge to touch the connection points at the base of his neck. It's not like he couldn't understand why somebody would want to get controller tech out of their body. Thanks to his "second job", he had an impressively-convincing fake Patch he wore during the day, but for several years he'd defiantly gone entirely without, full of youth and bravado and believing himself more stubborn than the system that ran his entire world. But not wearing one only brought suspicion from authorities and busy-bodies these days, as most "good citizens" put up with the low-level surveillance that came inherent with installing any of the common corporate Patches in exchange for the benefits. 

And to be fair, a lot of it sounded cool, if you ignored the worst-case scenarios. It was all stuff like instant entry to your house or car, along with an approved-guests list you could add friends and family to, no spare keys needed. Or HUDs with time, temperature, a mini-map, and other real-time cues making knowing where and when you were a subconscious constant. The big launch-day Patch, tap-to-pay, had been so successful it had instantly cemented Patches as a consumer product that was here to stay. One small, unobtrusive, conductive sticker at the back of your neck and all the annoying parts of life were conveniently handled for you without a thought--freeing your natural processing power up for bigger, better things. According to the smooth-voiced adverts in the tube, anyway.

Ren really couldn't afford to have his whereabouts logged, needed his movements to not be discoverable after the fact, so he was stuck in the last decade navigating by foot and carrying a wallet - but even if he didn't have good reason, he also _hated_ the idea of all those trackers. Who wanted to feel watched all the time, especially inside their own body?

"...Deal." He agreed, squeezing the Shell's hand.

x - x - x

The Shell had given the back hallway to Ren's living quarters the less-judgmental but still-dubious version of the look it'd been giving the front of the shop, and even though he should have been insulted by that, this time Ren almost found it reassuring. The Shell hadn't seemed to know Ren was watching it - that he could see it reflected in the security mirrors installed in the upper corners - and that had to mean that the feeling was honest, not just a show put on for his benefit. Right?

Despite his familiarity with ALT capabilities, it looked like there had been some improvements to Shell functionality he hadn't been able to pick up on from working with salvage or short-circuiting security beacons. He resolved to read up on the subject--actually, _much_ better: maybe he'd just _ask_. The thought of sitting down with this Shell and really getting to know it - to see its look of surprise and, hopefully, happiness, as Ren asked it about itself - made his heart do a weird little flutter. He really needed to get his crush under control before he did something silly like, for example, use up valuable materials that would need to be replaced on a maint job he wasn't, strictly, getting paid for.

He brushed that thought aside as he stepped out of the small bathroom that wasn't so much "attached" to the bedroom as it was inside it, and caught the Shell gingerly rearranging the - clean! - laundry on his bunk with a look of deep distaste. 

"Hey, thanks." Ren said, sitting down heavily, so he bounced a bit when he hit the bed, feeling playful. He set down the necessary accessories he'd brought from the bathroom and spread out a towel over his sheets - he was already making one financially stupid decision today, and he did _not_ have the time or desire to haul his bedding to the laundry later - then turned back to face the Shell.

It was examining the other things from the bathroom - condoms, lubricant, and Ren's favorite dick - with a small frown. Ren waited. It seemed incomprehensible that the Shell would be surprised by somebody like him - in this day and age and with its access to the entire grid's worth of information - but hell, maybe its controllers had programmed it to be a super old fashioned while they were teaching it to be an asshole. 

Fortunately, they hadn't-- though the look the Shell gave him was still a little mocking, with a bit of that smug superiority Ren was beginning to recognize as its comfortable default. "I can promise you that I not only will provide all these items myself, but they will be of _much_ higher quality."

Ren blinked. "Really?" That was a pleasantly-accepting answer, but not any of the responses he'd expected. _All_ of them, huh?

"I wouldn't be much of a 'sex bot' if I had all the disadvantages of being human." It drawled, pleased with itself, moving so it could lean back against Ren's headboard. It then folded its hands over its stomach, looking right at home, and looked at him with that same expectant air it had shown at the counter. After only a moment of waiting, it quirked an eyebrow at Ren, self-assured and smug-- seemingly waiting for him to come to it.

It was absolutely not fair, Ren thought. He hadn't quite known what to expect when he accepted the Shell's offer, but he had kind of assumed it would involve the Shell seducing him in some really polished but exaggerated way, all soft words and sensual touches, taking the lead but still differential… like the kind of "porn-bot" you'd see in a cheesy, low-budget porno, he concluded with a grimace. Was his imagination shirking off too? Of course-- of _course_ the real thing would be smarter than that, _better_ than that. The Shell had so clearly already honed right in on what got Ren's blood going, had watched him react - or not react - to all its sass and condescension so far, so it probably knew exactly what it was doing when it smirked at him, then looked away with obviously-feigned disinterest and a short huff. 

"Unless you only wanted to look."

Ren had inelegantly collapsed down, partially-on and partially-next-to the Shell, almost before it was finished speaking. He fisted his hands in that fancy-ass shirt and tried not to actually growl into the satisfied, victorious look on Shell's face. Instead he pulled it in by his hold on its collar and tried to kiss the smirk right off its mouth.

To its credit, it didn't make him feel rebuffed or judged, once they were kissing. It kissed back hungrily, mouth hot, its hands taking Ren confidently by the hips to slot their bodies together better. Ren let his weight settle comfortably, luxuriating in the kiss-- unsurprisingly, the Shell was a fantastic kisser. Every brush of its lips against his own only left him wanting another, heat and want curling tighter and tighter in his core, and he easily surrendered his mouth to the Shell's exploring tongue. 

Just as he was on the verge of doing something truly humiliating like straddling the Shell's thigh and rutting against it, Ren found himself flipped and pinned down against his bedding. The Shell kissed him once more - a deep, thorough thing that also felt very much like a command to _stay_ \- and then sat back. It made quick work of its own shirt and the top buttons of its pants, then reached to help Ren yank his own worn tank up over his head-- correctly interpreting that Ren wasn't a slow-striptease sort of person. At least not when he was already this far gone.

The Shell's hands settled on Ren's waistband, tracing around with confident fingers until it came to his fly.

"--Do you have a name?" Ren blurted, even as he was lifting his hips. The Shell paused, looking up at him, and Ren almost regretted asking as his body faintly pulsed with impatient want. 

"...Sai." It offered, eventually, though it didn't sound fully confident in its answer. Ren nodded, resolving internally to follow up on that later, when he had brain to spare, and instead surged up to try and draw the Shell - Sai - into another biting kiss.

They didn't part again until Ren felt Sai's hand slide between his legs, cupping him gently, and it felt like a question. Ren gasped for breath even as he ground himself against the heel of Sai's palm, fingers digging into the flawless, warm skin of its shoulders.

"You said-- you could provide everything yourself, right? Everything?" He panted, hips twitching and jerking entirely without his brain's input. Sai was doing something that should be illegal with its fingertips, even as it nodded with a small hum of confirmation. It felt like its _fingers_ were humming too, actually--a constant pulse of pleasure washing over Ren in short waves that matched the short strokes of Sai's fingers, like it was trying to coax him closer with just its grip between his legs. 

"Of course," Sai purred, pulling back far enough that it could give Ren that same self-satisfied look. Ren waited, eager and with absolutely no idea what to expect. But instead of, who knows, producing another, better prosthetic or whatever Sai had planned, it reached over and picked up Ren's existing prosthetic dick and inspected it with a small frown. Even more confusing was the look that had flashed over Sai's face, just for a second, just before it had moved-- surprise, uncertainty, and… had it been pouting?

"What's--?" He started to asked it, concerned, sitting up slightly-- only to be stopped by Sai's hand in the middle of his chest, gently encouraging him back down.

"Normally," Sai began, "I would be able to have something customized for your preferences temporarily scanned in for us. However--" And now Sai was _definitely_ sulking, giving Ren an almost petulant look. "However, your connection here is - as you so _aptly_ called out earlier - complete shit."

Ren screwed up his face, trying to follow what he was being told. This was new, some fancy feature he didn't have experience with, and he'd likely want a moment to decipher that even if he had a brain currently capable of higher level thought.

"... I am confined to local resources only, due to the lack of stable Grid connection." It elaborated with an impatient huff. "That means, things I have with me only."

Ren blinked at it--then burst out laughing. Maybe it wasn't funny, maybe he should be disappointed that apparently he wasn't going to get the full experience here, but there was something _delightful_ about this cutting-edge Shell being stymied by, essentially, bad wifi. He gave it a consoling pat on the shoulder, when it didn't seem to appreciate the joke.

"Guess you're stuck, what, driving stick? Manual transmission?" He leered, still shaking a little with laughter. Sai pursed its lips at him, then regained its confidence. 

"Please. My local library contains techniques you'll never have even heard of in this cut off little cave you call a district." Sai scoffed, offering Ren his own dick with a raised eyebrow. "Have you ever tried to imagine the extravagant, ridiculous things clients above the plate ask for? What they have access to? The people who are tired with everything a _normal_ person could buy?"

"I try not to..?" Ren replied, and found himself still trembling--though this time not with laughter, as he curled his fingers around the shaft of his cock. Sai hadn't let go of the base just yet, encouraging Ren to stroke himself at a completely foreign and unnatural angle, and somehow that alone was already a fascinatingly new experience. Stroking himself, towards his own face, with Sai staring him down from only inches away with a look that had his entire body tense up with arousal--that was a look that said he was going to regret, in the best way, ever doubting it.

"So tell me, " Sai purred, as it nudged Ren's dick forward until the tip nearly touched his own lips. Ren felt frozen, captivated by that look, hanging on its every word as he panted, fingers brushing against his mouth as he continued to stroke. "How do you feel about being Patched?"

**Author's Note:**

> OH JEEZ I'm sorry they didn't actually get to the sex. There is a chapter two that will have the sex and other relevant tags from the prompt, such as: Comforting monster after they survive something that would kill a human, Maintenance Process is a Turn-on for Robot/Cyborg/AI Character, Mentally sharing sensations, Monster(s) Rescuing Non-Monster Character -- but you MIGHT HAVE NOTICED, this one... got away from me a little bit.
> 
> I hope you like it so far, I had an absolute blast with the premise.


End file.
